


Everything is fine now, let sleeping dogs lay

by Saint_Katyusha



Category: Far Cry (Video Games), Far Cry 5
Genre: Blood, Dry Humping, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Other, whomst else is sad and horny
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-26
Updated: 2018-04-26
Packaged: 2019-04-26 09:05:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14398794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saint_Katyusha/pseuds/Saint_Katyusha
Summary: “Do you think you could have killed me ?” Jacob asked. He slowly pulled his digit free, wiping blood and saliva on the Deputy's cheek. “Yes,” Rook said softly.The Deputy finally breaks, submitting to the hands of fate.





	Everything is fine now, let sleeping dogs lay

**Author's Note:**

> [[God watching me write viddy game smut]](https://i.imgur.com/S5GoaXq.jpg) 
> 
> This is an alternate version of the final fight with Jacob. In my mind, the Jacob fight was meant to be the final push for the Deputy to realise their "potential" that had been brought out by Jacob's training and conditioning, and the final push to help them see the light, so to say, regarding their place in the cult. But ultimately this is a very self-indulgent fic because I just want a scenario where you don't have to kill Jacob :"^) The title is a Lana Del Rey lyric because I worship at the Church Of Lana.

Rook felt like they had been running and shooting for hours. Shooting at people, shooting at ghosts. After running through a wooded area and into a clearing, Rook threw themselves to the ground on their knees to crouch behind a boulder. Their legs shook. The air was warm, and the sun hung high in the sky. Gunfire echoed in their memory, but their surroundings were silent. A cultist lay dead several hundred meters from where Rook had come from, and it seemed like they had been the last of the ground support. The Deputy ran a hand over their M16, then put the weapon away, sliding downwards against the boulder until they were sitting on the ground.

Pulling their gloves off, they ran their hands over the grass. The ground there was soft, and they sank their fingers into the dirt. Tears burned at the back of their eyes. Exhaustion settled over their body like a heavy blanket. They wanted to keep digging and digging into the ground and merge with the earth, away from the clusterfuck that was now their life. They wanted the wilderness to claim them. Everything since the helicopter crash felt both unreal, and hyper-real. Both like a dream, and a technicolour hallucination. _This place is getting to me_ , Rook thought, running a hand through their hair, rubbing at their face. _There's something in the air and I've been breathing it._ A caw draws their attention to a large bird flying overhead the clearing. Rook watches it as it flies away Southward. _There's something in the water and I've been drinking it._ Their radio suddenly crackles to life.

“Impressive,” Jacob's low voice comes in through the slight static. “Now come find me, superstar.” The Deputy gazed out at the treeline towards the rocky and mountainous landscape where they figured Jacob had found high ground like the marksman that he was. He was probably watching them right now. Had been this entire time. Rook slowly stood, scanning the landscape. They were vulnerable to sniper fire, but moving fast and occasionally ducking behind trees and boulders would have to suffice. Rook vaguely thought that it didn't matter, in the greater scheme of things, if they died or not. They were just one person, a Junior Deputy, not a hero, and the battle they had been fighting had been going on before they arrived in Hope County, and it will go on after they're gone. They began to move towards where they guessed Jacob was camped out.

The journey was slow as Rook attempted to conceal themselves in the environment as best as they could. When they neared an area of large rock outcrops, their radio crackled to life once more. “You're getting close to the end. But what kind of end will it be ?” The transmission shut off. Rook looked towards the highest of the outcrops. High ground. They pulled out binoculars and scanned the area. For a brief moment they spotted movement. The sun hitting gun metal. Red hair. Rook walked towards the landmark. Then they began to climb. 

When they reached the top, Jacob was nowhere in sight, his rifle resting against a rock. Rook started to walk towards it when they were knocked in the back of the head, stumbling forwards. They spun around to see Jacob throw another punch at them. Rook moved, but did not dodge it completely, Jacob's fist connecting to their ribs. Rook snarled and threw themselves at Jacob, throwing fists at his face. Some hits connected, others didn't. Jacob grabbed the Deputy and swung them around, throwing them back-first into a tree. He reached for his thigh holster, producing a hunting knife. He waved it towards the Deputy, wordlessly communicating a command. An invitation. As he moved towards them, Rook reached around their belt to unsheathe their own knife. “Good,” Jacob said.

Rook felt as though a sheet of glass was separating them from reality as they lunged at Jacob. They felt like they were blacking in and out of the world, their limbs moving by themselves, no need for any sort of consciousness to be present. They smelled blood. They felt nothing of their body except for the spots where Jacob grabbed them, struck them. Where Jacob's hunting knife met their flesh. They were grasping each other, arms locked in and pushing with an exhausting amount of force to bring knives to each others throats. The sun momentarily hit the polished side of Rook's knife, and it cast a line of light on Jacob's face. His grip on the Deputy's arm was vice-like as he pushed his blade closer to their face. But the Rookie pushed back with an equally great force, their own knife inching closer to its target. Their arms trembled with the effort, every muscle in their body burned hot, straining to match Jacob's strength. Their legs burned at the effort to stay rooted to the spot, to not falter, to not fall. Their right knee was knocking into Jacob's left thigh. They could no longer distinguish whether Jacob was speaking out loud or whether his voice was in their head; _you belong to me._

The mountain air seemed to shimmer as a warm wind picked up, the tree branches swaying in the breeze, casting speckled shadows on the ground. Jacob snarled as the tip of the Deputy's knife pressed into his neck, a rivulet of blood mixing in with sweat. His eyes bore into Rook's with a fiery intensity. That fighting fire that pushes and pushes towards the precipice. A lifetime worth of fighting. Irrational and almost hysterical thoughts floated through Rook's mind; who gave them the right to slay Jacob ? This man whose journey through the world left him so thoroughly scarred, physically and mentally. What kind of bloody tour through Hope County had they embarked on ? This was beyond fucked. They should have walked away. They should have walked away. 

The Deputy watched fat droplets of blood swell forth where their knife bore down on Jacob's throat - they felt like they had suddenly come to from a dream. They had never been in a position to make Jacob Seed bleed. All their frantic thoughts dissolved like a clearing fog. It felt like a single, beautiful moment of clarity. It felt like a rubber band snapping after being stretched to its limit. It was almost a relief, and everything felt worth it. The Deputy's mind was empty save for a rolling loop of _train - hunt - kill - sacrifice._ Their muscles screamed but they knew it in their mind and in their heart and in their soul – they were strong. They could overpower anyone, even Jacob. They could do what they were fated to do. They could walk back to Joseph's church where this whole cursed journey began, throwing Jacob's decapitated head at his feet, Jacob's blood still hot and sticky on their hands. Better yet, they could walk back to Jacob's compound as the stronger one. The winner. They could lay claim to the whole goddamned place. Raise their own flag. The remaining men will submit. They understand the rules of nature. Understand what is means to eat, and be eaten.

Rook breathed out harshly, pressing the knife forwards while looking into Jacob's eyes. Rook hungered for the kill, they burned with the desire for it. The redhead grunted, a smile playing at the edges of his mouth. “Perfect,” he said breathlessly.

The knife shook. A peculiar feeling overcame the Deputy and for a second they faltered. A second was enough for the eldest Seed sibling, however. In a swift motion Jacob threw Rook to the ground, bearing his weight on them, caging them in his arms. Rook went slack, their mind suddenly as slow as molasses. The knife had fallen nearby, forgotten. Jacob held his hunting knife over the Deputy's face. He was smiling in earnest now as he ran the knife gently over Rook's cheek before slotting it back into his thigh holster. “Perfect,” he repeated in a low tone. “You started with nothing, as nothing. You were weak, but I pushed you because I saw potential in you to make you better, to make you stronger than the rest. And I always brought you back after you got scared and ran.” As he spoke, his hand moved to his neck to feel the wound there. The Deputy watched as Jacob's hand came down on their face, smearing it with his blood. They did not struggle as Jacob marked them - claimed them, caressing their face with his warm, bloody palm. “Dogs can be trained to do just about anything, and good dogs take well to training because they know they're meant to please their master – want to please their master.” The Deputy's mind felt empty. A feeling dangerously close to closure was settling over them.

When he was finished slowly moving his hand down Rook's face, Jacob grabbed their jaw and moved their head side to side, inspecting the bruises that were already blooming from the fight. He moved his thumb towards the Deputy's mouth, pressing softly but insistently. After a moment, the Deputy opened their lips, taking Jacob's thumb into their mouth, lapping at it slowly. “Do you think you could have killed me ?” Jacob asked. He slowly pulled his digit free, wiping blood and saliva on the Deputy's cheek. “Yes,” Rook said softly. Jacob's expression was unreadable as he quietly said, “I think so too.” He rested his weight on one elbow, his other hand moving to Rook's neck, grasping it softly.

A warm feeling was pooling in Rook's stomach. A warm heat. They felt light. They felt proud. They were happy to have made Jacob proud. Treacherous thought, that one. But whatever was – was. Rook sighed, and let whatever emotions come settle over them. This wasn't good. This wasn't bad. It just was. They were tired of fighting against a power greater than them. They were tired of roving about, always in too deep. Rook's tongue slipped out of their mouth to feel their lips; they tasted coppery. Rook wanted the wilderness to claim them. Jacob's hand was still moving at their throat, squeezing gently, then releasing. “Was it always going to end like this ?” Rook asked. Jacob's hand left their throat, moving down their body. “That's not my area of expertise”, he said, hand moving closer and closer to Rook's inner thigh, “but I hoped it would.” The Deputy let out a long and content sigh, closing their eyes. Their arms felt like jelly, but they gathered enough strength to lift them up and around Jacob's neck, pulling him closer. He smelled of earth and blood. His hand gently caressed Rook's thigh. “Death comes so easily, and in the end your life means nothing, just as my life means nothing. All we have is a purpose to fulfil, and a job to get done.” Jacob was now palming at the heat between Rook's legs, slowly building up speed, lowering his head. “I saw it in your eyes, that--” he pressed his lips to Rook's neck “--hunger borne of desperation. That is the only thing you need to--” He lifted his head and smirked “--inspire you. That, and the knowledge that you're helping to serve a higher purpose. You're finally being put to good use, soldier” He chuckled, and began moving his hips, grinding against the Deputy's thigh as his hand continued to palm at their crotch, his head lowering once more to Rook's neck. “You understand what I've been training you for, don't you. You're not stupid, despite first appearances.” Rook can feel Jacob smirk again as he pressed an open mouthed kiss to their neck, tongue wet and hot against their skin. He licked a long line along Rook's neck before suddenly biting down, drawing out a gasp from the Deputy. His lips eventually left their neck, and he lifted his head, gazing at the Deputy's flushed face, their parted lips, covered in his own blood. “There's a beautiful freedom in knowing your place - your purpose. It's not easy, I know, but you've been so good, and done so well.”

The Deputy smiled deliriously at the praise. _There's something in the water and I've been drinking it._ Jacob's hips picked up pace as he continued to rut against the body beneath him. His soldier. Vicious and trained to bite – to kill. The one who would always come back to him. Jacob's hand was now pulling down the zipper of Rook's jeans, quickly moving past their underwear to palm at their sex directly. Rook groaned, moving their hands from Jacob's neck to his face, stroking his cheeks, his jaw. _There's something in the air and I've been breathing it._ The wind had died down, and little specks, something like dust motes, hung in the air. Jacob groaned in pleasure, a low sound that vibrated in his chest. _What does the passage of time matter in the face of fate_ , Rook wondered. A moment ago they held Jacob's life in their hands. Many more moments ago they had woken up in a cage with Jacob looming over them. In this present moment Jacob's fingers are rubbing and kneading at them, and Rook burns at the thought. Rook burns. Joseph's attempted arrest, the helicopter crash, the running, endless running, the cage, _only you_ , the pain, the pain, the resistance, all those faces, the cage. A string of experiences. Feelings and thoughts are so transient. A moment ago Rook held the knife, and knew what they had to do. And now they knew something different. How could there be any kind of ultimate truth in the face of such experiences. It all felt completely and utterly meaningless, and yet blazing with meaning. Rook looked up at the sunshine filtering in through the trees. The sun felt good. It felt pure. Rook wanted the wilderness to claim them. 

The Deputy was drawn from their thoughts as Jacob's hand worked them, his low grunts rising in frequency as his hips continued rocking a fast pace on Rook's thigh. Rook was panting at the feel of Jacob's dick straining through two layers of jeans, rubbing against their leg. They moaned out something unintelligible at the thought of taking it into their hand, skin to skin. This seemed to encourage Jacob, as he lifted his head and finally captured Rook's lips in a kiss. It was deep and wet, his tongue moving in Rook's mouth, then out of it to lick at their lips. _Jacob's hands are so warm_ , Rook thinks, they want nothing more than to feel those hands on them, to feel them grabbing at their waist, their neck, their thighs, their face. Rook reaches up to caress the back of Jacob's neck. “I'm yours, I'll follow you anywhere,” they pant breathlessly. Jacob presses a kiss to Rook's neck where he'd bitten them. “I know.” His fingers were drawing out a sensation like pain and sweetness, and Rook raised their hips as much as they could to get closer to him, to chase that feeling. They ran their fingers over Jacob's forearm, wondering what he looks like bare, underneath his clothes. Is his chest covered in scars, too ? Are sins carved into his flesh ? 

Jacob goes in for another kiss, muffling Rook's long and high-pitched whines. They were creeping close to the edge. The precipice. The point of no return. The warm wind picks up again, blowing a few stray leaves onto Jacob's back. "You don't need to fight me anymore," he whispers into Rook's neck. The Deputy comes, then, with a gasp, high and sweet, with Jacob's tongue on the edge of their lips and his hand stroking them slowly until they're writhing underneath him from over-stimulation. With a noiseless shudder, Jacob comes to his own climax, hips moving once, twice, then coming to a languid stop. He sighs and brings his hand to the Deputy's face, once more pressing his fingers at their lips until they slip into their mouth. Rook tastes themselves, tastes the blood, tastes the earth. They want the wilderness to claim them. 

Eventually Jacob rolls off and they lay there in silence, breathing, listening to the sounds of nature around them. The Deputy squints at the sun, then closes their eyes. Their mind feels empty. “Time to go home,” they hear Jacob say.


End file.
